


Iä! Iä! Iä!

by meowvelous



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Lovecraft Fusion, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Body Horror, Detective Noir, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Genderswap, Horror, Lovecraftian, Lovecraftian Monster(s), Mental Health Issues, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Pre-Slash, Psychological Horror, References to Lovecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowvelous/pseuds/meowvelous
Summary: Gavin Reed might be in debt, and he might be in possession of a damaged mind, but he's making do. This shaky equilibrium is disrupted when a mysterious man offers a suspiciously large sum of money to track down his missing sibling. Gavin can't afford to turn the offer down, even as the trail leads back home to Arkham, and further than that, to the shore and the whispers of the waves...
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Iä! Iä! Iä!

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I know I said I'd be leaving the fandom BUT this is still among one of my favourite things that I've ever written, so I'm sharing it. It was originally supposed to be part of a longer story, but, well, this is all I got down. I hope you enjoy! Also, there will not be anything more written for this, sorry!
> 
> I think I've tagged for everything, but if I've missed something, do let me know! Please mind the tags that are there, though.

_He stood on the shore, bitterly cold water lapping at his feet. Something slithered from the surf; a tentacle. It was slick and chilled as it wrapped around his ankles and pulled him towards the water. The ocean swallowed him without a sound. Deeper and deeper he went; being led back to the source. Finally, in the depths where no light could reach, the creature was before him; a writhing mass of limbs. One eye opened. And then another. And another. Andanotherandanotherandanother—_

He woke up with a gasp. Someone was knocking at his door. “Fuck.” Gavin swore to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It’d been a while since he’d had a dream like that. A deep dream, it was called. His mother always said it was a good omen, a sign their family was blessed. And look how that turned out for her. 

Another knock. 

Groping around, he opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a flask. Took a fortifying swig, savouring the burn, compared to the lingering chill from his dream. “Alright, I’m coming.” He raised his voice to be heard. Silence from the other side of the door. 

The slant of light through the blinds on the window told him it was late afternoon. The death of the day. 

Gavin levered himself out of his chair, swayed against the sudden rush of blood to his head. He took a moment to put the flask back and lock the drawer, and then stumbled forward. Seized the door handle and yanked, opening it. “What.” He snapped, squinting at the light of the hallway compared to the gloom of his office. 

Getting a look at his visitor, Gavin immediately regretted his belligerent tone, as he so often did. The man before him was undeniably handsome; a defined chest, broad shoulders, strong jawline. Clear blue eyes and dark brown hair with a flyaway lock. Impeccably clad in a suit.

“Gavin Reed?” The man asked. Even his voice was pleasing, with a lower timber. 

“Depends, who’s asking?” Crossing his arms, Gavin leaned against the doorframe. He was suddenly self conscious of his accumulated stubble, sleep crusting his eyes, hair disarrayed. Even at his most functional, he didn’t make a picture half as nice as the man before him. 

“A client.” His tone was flat and cool, with distant - very distant - amusement. “One with considerable bank roll.”

That caught Gavin’s attention, and raised his guard. Behind him, he was conscious of the unpaid bills, debts owed, scattered across his desk. It sounded good — too good — but that could’ve been lingering unease from his dream. A remnant of a time he spent looking over his shoulder with each breath. He literally couldn’t afford to be picky. “Fine. Come in.” Stepping into his office, Gavin circled around his desk and dropped back into his much abused chair. “What kind of job do you have in mind? Do you have a name?” As an afterthought, he flicked on his desk light. 

“Niles Arkay,” The man entered the room, shutting the door with a click behind him. Movements smooth, he sat in the visitor’s chair and rested his leg over his knee. “And it's a missing person’s case.”

The name sounded familiar but Gavin could be damned if he remembered why. “Any reason you can’t just go to the police? I won’t bring back anyone who doesn’t want to come along.” He had good instincts for this sort of thing, seen too many men with their tempers barely reigned in, looking for their wives.

“Admirable.” Niles’ tone failed to reveal the sincerity of his words. Reaching into his suit jacket, he withdrew a photo and placed it on the desk, turning it to face Gavin. “As for the police… Let’s just say I don’t trust their dedication. One person in a crowd hardly compares to the needs of a community.”

Gavin hummed non-committedly in the back of his throat. He studied the photo. The back of someone, their face almost angled towards the camera. Slight build, soft features, but indistinct. “Not much to go off of.” Tapping the photo with two fingers. “Couldn’t recognize anyone from this. And you still haven’t said who they are to you.”

“My sibling, Connor. We bear a strong resemblance to one another, you’ll recognize my dear sibling on sight.” Niles leaned back in his seat, hands linked together. “Connor was last seen in the company of one Henrietta - Hank - Anderson.”

His stomach dropped. “Fuck.”

Coolly amused, Niles raised an eyebrow. “You’re acquainted with her?”

Absentmindedly, Gavin rubbed at his chest, feeling the phantom throb of old pain. “Hah.” A humourless chuckle. “Yeah, you could say that. You said you’ve got bankroll. What kind of cash are we talking here?”

“Four hundred and fifty dollars upfront, to cover any expenses.” From within his jacket came a bundle of bills, laid on the desk. “And another six hundred and fifty dollars after Connor’s safe return to me.”

Gavin let out a low whistle, eyeing the money. Hell of a payday. Bigger than anything offered by any previous clients. His conscience compelled him to say, “I usually charge five dollars a day, plus expenses. Usually no more than fifteen.”

Niles’ lips curled in the facsimile of a smile. “I’m aware. However, I believe your services will be worth the cost.” Left unsaid was that money clearly was of no concern to him. 

A pause, as Gavin considered this. “How fast are you expecting results?”

The other man shrugged. “If it takes longer than a month, contact me. I’ll meet double your usual rate until the job is done.” He met Gavin’s eyes, gaze calm and eyes unblinking. “Are those terms satisfactory?”

“I’m going to need it in writing.” Gavin replied, immediately. Talk was cheap, and easy to renege on. 

Niles nodded slowly. “Diligent.” From a suit pocket, he pulled out a sheath of papers and offered them. “I believe this should meet your requirements.”

Taking the pages, Gavin scanned through them. It summarized everything Niles had said, and bore his signature. To his practiced eye, it seemed legitimate. “Well then.” Standing, Gavin moved around his desk and offered his hand. “I believe we had an agreement, then.”

“Excellent.” Standing, Niles shook his hand. His palm was cool and dry. He leaned forward, towering over Gavin in his greater height. “I expect results. If not, I believe we have some mutual friends who will be very interested in learning your location. A mortal who’s mind can withstand the presence of an Elder God is no common find.”

At first, Gavin didn’t understand what he was hearing, thrown by the sudden shift. When the words clarified in his mind, he felt his blood run cold. “What the fuck did you just say?”

A sharp smile, lacking humour or any warmth. “You heard me.” Niles released his hand and headed for the door. “Vulgtmnah ahl'n'gha.” _Good hunting._ Then he left.

At the sound of that damned language - after so much time - the strength left Gavin’s legs. He stumbled back and then crashed to the ground. Numbly, he sat there, wondering what the fuck he had gotten himself into.

***

Eventually, slowly, Gavin came back to himself. His office was deeply dark, save for slats of light from outside spilling through the blinds. Arduously standing, he hobbled over to the window and separated the blinds, looking out. It was impossible to tell what time it was, but twilight had well and truly passed. 

“Fuck.” Gavin stumbled over to his chair and fell into it. Blankly he stared down at the desktop, not really seeing it. It had been a long time since he lost time like that. Doctor Elizabeth would be so disappointed with him. 

He grimaced, shoving old memories away. Focus on the now. The case. Pulling a piece of blank paper towards him, Gavin scribbled down all the information he had so far. A name, an extrapolated appearance, and a travelling companion. Not much, but he’d worked with less. 

Absentmindedly getting his flask out, Gavin took a long swig from it and contemplated his next move. Despite the quiet day that preceded it, he was still exhausted by the confrontation. He could start working tomorrow. 

Grabbing the contract and the money, Gavin left his office and headed home. 

***

_White walls, so stark against the fluorescent light that they glowed. The air, always on the side of being cold and smelling of bleach and medicine. Noises from other patients, rising and falling like the sound of the tide inside his head._

_He sat up from the bed, swung his legs over the side. In reality, he’d been a child when he had been in this bed. In the dream, he was a few years younger from his current age. The fabric of his army uniform was coarse against his skin, the collar a grasp around his throat._

_Someone was at the door’s window. Then he was standing in front of it, looking out. The face of a man from his unit - Jensen - stared back at him. “They’re coming,” Jensen wheezed, voice wrecked from the bayonet he took to the ribs. Blood bubbled over his lips. “You have to let me in.”_

Gavin woke with a jolt. His heart was racing, sweat slick on his forehead. Mouse, his cat, made a questioning sound. Seeing that her owner was awake, she padded over and began butting her head against his hand. 

He scratched at her cheeks, taking in the details around him to ground himself. The familiar disarray of his bedroom, books and clothes piled haphazardly on the furniture. His sheets, tangled around his legs and feeling suffocating in their warmth. Shoving them away, he sat up. 

Mouse was pleased with this development and crawled into his lap. She kneaded his pajama pants and kept purring, nudging his hand whenever the ministrations stopped. 

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Gavin grimaced. It was damn early. Too early to be able to do anything useful. He stayed where he was, concentrating on the warmth emanating from the cat in his lap. Trying not to think of the earlier dream or the one he’d just had. At least the latter was clearly in response to hearing those sounds slither from Niles’ lips. A violent shudder passed through him. And seeing Jensen — adult horrors joining childhood fears.

His mind continued to be a bastard, but that was no surprise. They never got along, hadn’t since even before everything that happened. 

***

Eventually, time slid towards a more decent hour. He was able to get up, get dressed, get fed. Braced himself to face the world. Considered his flask, but he didn’t want anyone to be able to smell alcohol on his breath. 

The first stop was the bank to deposit a lion’s share of the money Niles had given to him. He held some back, saving it for the investigation. “Have a nice day!” The pretty woman behind the window chirped. Gavin spared her an absent nod as he moved away, thinking of his next move. 

Time to pay North a visit. 

***

She was disheveled, wearing a hastily pulled on robe when she answered the door, angry at the disturbance. Which was nothing new; most things riled her temper. “What,” North snapped. Her expression shifted as she took in Gavin, face curling into amusement. “You look like shit, as always, Reed. Don’t tell me you’ve already worked through what I gave you.”

From inside the apartment, a woman’s soft voice could be heard asking who was at the door. 

“An acquaintance.” North called over her shoulder. Gavin tried to peer around her. North was deviant like him, though she eschewed obfuscations, carrying out and daring anyone to comment on it. He always admired that about her. Noticing Gavin trying to look, she shifted, blocking his view. “Well?” North prompted, crossing her arms. 

Reaching into his coat, Gavin pulled out a fifty dollar bill, holding it between two fingers for her to clearly see. “Information,” he replied. When her eyes narrowed, he continued, “Not asking for sources. Just other clients.”

“What makes you think I’ll tell you?” North’s gaze hardened, though the way that she kept darting glances at the money betrayed her interest. 

Inwardly, Gavin smiled, knowing he had her. “Because I’m not asking for much. Just other places I can go for a drink. Figured coming to you was the easiest way.”

Snatching the money, she tucked it into the robe’s pocket. “Twenty Seventh on Main. Ask to see Lucas. Fifty First and Elm, Jodie. The Maya, Ethan. You got all that?”

Now Gavin did smile, letting his smug satisfaction show as he slowly nodded. “A pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Go fuck yourself. If this comes back to any boys in blue, or the suits, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. Got it?” North asked, though the threat was undercut slightly by her attire. A different man would appreciate the view, though it held no appeal for Gavin.

“Crystal clear.” He gave her a mock salute with two fingers, turned and ambled off. The sound of the door slamming behind him made his face stretch into a grin.

***

It was too early in the day to hit up the speakeasies, and Gavin found himself dwelling on Niles’ surname. Arkay. Why was that familiar? Then it clicked. A family name. An _old_ family name. 

He was going to have to send an inquiry back home. Damn it. 

Going to the post office, Gavin dashed out a quick telegram under a fake name and then passed it over to be mailed. His family was aware of the pseudonym he sometimes operated under. Hopefully, they’d be similarly subtle in their reply. 

***

A week. That’s how long Gavin was going to give himself to stay in Detroit. Hopefully hearing back wouldn’t take that long, but something about Niles ( _besides how gorgeous he was_ , his mind helpfully supplied) set off survival instincts from the part of his brain that’d saved his life once or twice. Gavin wanted to know what Niles’ deal was before digging any deeper into the case.

Besides, that gave him a week to be seen at the bars, and would hopefully help him narrow down which one was Anderson’s drinking hole. As he remembered her, she’d been a staple at the tavern back home. Right alongside his old man, the memory of which he still felt a bitter sting from. 

So Gavin spent time nursing some frankly shit drinks - Lucas watered his down a disgraceful amount - and tried not to get too distracted by the pretty young thing tending the bar. If Gavin was a few years younger, and a little less broken, he’d at least talk to the guy. As was, he limited himself to the occasional glance. Seemed like the man was sweet on a guy with mismatched eyes, who came around every few days. Were Gavin the gambling type, he’d put money on that man being part of North’s operation. 

It took a few days for the other patrons to stop watching Gavin suspiciously (one straight up asked him if he was a cop, to which he gave a derisive snort and said he was too poor to be a crooked cop). A handful more visits, and a few carefully selected drinks ordered for sorry saps who looked like they needed it, and Gavin was practically a regular. 

He held himself back from poking around at all, still waiting to hear back from home. 

***

Exactly a week after sending the telegram, a package arrived at his office. The postmarks showed that it’d been sent to four different locations before being forwarded to his place which he rented under a fake name. His favourite cousin was always canny like that. 

Sitting at his desk, Gavin carefully cracked it open. There was a package of papers neatly tied together with a piece of rough brown string. Sitting on top was a letter that proclaimed “Read Me First! (or else!!)” in familiar hand-writing. 

Already smiling, he picked up the letter and took it out from the envelope. 

It read;

_Dearest Cousin,_

_Receiving your telegram was a great shock! Mam seemed disappointed that you weren’t dead, though she might be proven right in time. What have you gotten yourself into, dear cousin, that has you asking after the Arkays? And honestly - at least you used a pseudonym but sending us a note directly? A bit of subtly wouldn’t be amiss._

_In any case, it wasn’t too much work to find the answers to your queries. I’m surprised you don’t remember more of this yourself. Yes it happened after you left, but Miskatonic U. hiring Mrs. Amanda Stern (nee Arkay) as their dean was quite the scandal! As was her disappearance a few years later. I always hoped she’d left on her own accord, though judging by the bitterness between her successor Kamski (surely you_ do _remember that he’s Family?) and the university board, that wasn’t the case._

_I’m sorry to say that I have found precious little on her children; just that there were two of them, adopted from a woman who retreated to the Sanitarium after their birth. She passed recently, poor dear. That, along with Stern and her family’s disappearance, brought whispers of a curse._

_I think our line still has the capital on that, don’t you agree?_

_Oh do take care of yourself, dear cousin, and keep in touch. You must_ _tell me everything about what prompted this, once it’s all settled._

_Much love,_

_Lavinia._

Setting the letter carefully aside, Gavin undid the string and began paging through the papers. It was copies of newspaper clippings, detailing the story which his cousin already conveyed. Gavin found himself lingering over a photo of Stern and Kamski; yes, he remembered the man now, Kamski’s thirst for knowledge and how he envied Gavin for all that befell him. 

As though Gavin had asked for any of it. 

Kamski had dodged the draft due to a nervous disorder, he recalled. Another reason to dislike the man. Said disorder seemed to do little to deter Kamski from his scholarly pursuits. 

Soon, Gavin had reviewed all the clippings. Drinking from his flask, he reflected what he’d learned from them.

First, was that Niles had ties to Arkham. Idly, Gavin wondered if they had passed one another in their youth, though it wasn’t as though he’d remember if they did. 

Second, finding out Niles was connected to another missing person. Grabbing his piece of paper from the other day, Gavin added that as a brief note. It was possible that whatever befell Stern also was responsible for Connor’s vanishing act. 

It would make sense then, for Anderson to be involved in all that. She never did know how to leave well enough alone. Not even realizing he was doing it, Gavin’s hand drifted to his chest, over the scars underneath. 

Third, Niles was possibly in league with the Order? He was aware of them, at the very least, judging by his threat to throw Gavin at their mercy. Remembering it - and the words that followed after - caused a strong shudder to pass through Gavin. 

All in all, it further underscored that Niles was trouble with a capital T. But Gavin had to admit, his interest was piqued. Two missing people, unrest at MiskU, the Family connection with Kamski… It was a hell of a lot more interesting than any of his previous cases, even if it was liable to get him thrown to the deep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Blanket disclaimer that Lovecraft was a racist and a misogynist but wow some good stuff has been made inspired by his work. If you’re keen for more, I’d recommend:  
> -the first two entries of the Innsmouth Legacy by Ruthanna Emrys (“The Litany of Earth” and Winter Tide)(I haven’t read the 2nd book)  
> -Call of Cthulhu: The Dark Corners of the Earth (video game; 2005) + iconoclast187’s LP of it  
> -Call of Cthulhu: The Official Game (video game; 2018) + Two Best Friends LP of it  
> -Eternal Darkness (video game; 2002) + Two Best Friends LP of it
> 
> Other Lovecraftian Inspired Works;  
> (Blanket cw for violence, character death, body horror, general horror)  
> Novels/Anthologies/Novellas;  
> -Cthulhu’s Daughters (also published as She Walks in Shadows), ed. Silvia Moreno-Garcia and Paula R Stiles  
> -Dreams From The Witch House, ed. Lynne Jamneck (cw for noncon and csa; [see here for my goodreads review for further info.](https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2744733762))  
> -The Dream-Quest of Vellitt Boe by Kij Johnson (cw for casual mention of noncon)  
> -The Agents of Dreamland by Caitlín R. Kiernan  
> -Hammers on Bone by Cassandra Khaw  
> -The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle (cw for ‘era typical’ racism)  
> -Carter & Lovecraft by Jonathan L. Howard (cw for instances of noncon, victim shaming, and one of perpetrators being portrayed sympathetically.)  
> -Experimental Film by Gemma Files  
> -Area X: The Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer + Annihilation [film; 2018]  
> -Revival by Stephen King (cw child death, addiction)  
> -The Scar by China Mieville (cw self harm, mention of infanticide)
> 
> Other media;  
> -Welcome to Night Vale [podcast/scripts]  
> -Alice Isn’t Dead [podcast/book]  
> -Fallen London [browser game; 2009] and Sunless Sea [video game; 2015]  
> -Darkest Dungeon [video game; 2016]  
> -Silent Hill series [video games 1-3/first movie]


End file.
